


(Kicking Up) Dust and Bullets

by Beckon



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Between the Scenes, Blood, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Posioned, Spencer mansion, Team Bonding, mentions of character deaths, the Yawn incident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-11 00:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12310743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beckon/pseuds/Beckon
Summary: Chris gave out a heavy sigh and moved both hands to the back of his neck; it almost felt like he was out of place here. "I have no idea where anyone from Alpha team is. I don't know if they even made it to this mansion or not." Barry, Captain Wesker, and Jill... all of them could've easily suffered the same fate as Joseph. "You guys are the only two people I've ran into since I got here- the only living ones anyways."





	(Kicking Up) Dust and Bullets

Silence was both a good and bad thing as far as Chris was concerned.

It meant that, as far as his hearing went at least, there weren't any of those things, those _creatures_ anywhere near him.

Their unorganized and undirected shuffling usually gave them away.

But the silence also meant that he could hear every little creak of the floorboards underneath him. It meant that he could hear the fluttering of moths as they bounced against the windows outside- desperate for the light on the inside. (And how Chris wished he would've known that light didn't always mean safety.) The subtle rolling of thunder in the distance caused his skin to pull tight as the sound echoed down empty hallways, mimicking footsteps behind him, always making him look over his shoulder. It was a dramatic change from the whipping crack of thunder and lighting only an hour before- and right now, Chris wasn't certain of which one he preferred.

Right now it just felt like the storm was residing on his shoulders, always watching, always listening.

Rolling beads of cold sweat down the back of his neck.

His heart was still going hard inside of his chest as Chris paced the tight corridor once more, the third time in the past half-hour. He stepped carefully over the bodies of the already disposed-of creatures from before, fighting the fear that one of them would spring to life again and snag his leg- fighting the fear that it would sink its teeth into him just as it had tried the first time.

For now however, they were still and rotting.

Filling the tight corridor with a putrid smell that he tried not to breathe in.

It was still quiet.

It would seem he had cleared at least one wing of this cursed mansion- for now anyways.

Just for now.

Swallowing hard, Chris took the next corner with calculated sharpness, leading with his gun and following through with his eyes and body. Nothing but antique furniture and scratched out paintings on the wall caught his attention.

As much as he wanted to lock himself into a room and hunker down for a few hours, praying maybe that some form of back-up would arrive, Chris knew he had to be better than that.

He had to be stronger than that.

He had to keep moving; he had to keep fighting for a way out of here.

(Alpha team was the back-up.)

(And right now, he was all there was left of it.)

Breathing out slowly, Chris finished yet another walk of the eastern stairwell and felt some bit of comfort in knowing that it was secured. In knowing that it was safe for the time being, that it was a place he could retreat to if needed be. As he had several times already. Shaking off his nerves, he reached for the formerly-locked emblem door on his left and knocked twice before he pushed it open; he was already used to the heavy scent of sawdust and musk that lingered in the attic stairwell- he didn't so much as choke on it this time.

"Chris?" a quiet voice called out in question.

"Yeah, it's me," he assured, easing the door closed behind him before he walked the few steps needed to round the corner.

To where the two Bravo team members were seated on the floor.

Rebecca had moved from a kneeling position to a sitting one, which was no doubt more comfortable on her knees and hips given how long she had been rooted here. Her back was against the wall, allowing her to keep her legs stretched out in front of her, which also allowed her to support her injured teammate.

Richard, still looking pale and feverish, had his head resting in Rebecca's lap. There was no raspy breathing or painful heaving so the minor elevation was maybe helping the man breathe a little easier; maybe it was pooling the liquid out of his chest and lungs.

The young medic looked relieved to see him and offered a tired smile at his return.

Chris had to give the girl props for holding her own for so long and for keeping herself together despite the shitty situation they were in. From the moment Chris had walked in on her trying to tend to Richard, who had been freshly bit and was convulsing from the venom coursing through his blood, she had been and still was in control. Rebecca had insisted on not leaving Richard alone and had been quick to instruct Chris on where to go and what to look for in the medical cabinet in the western corridor.

And Chris had hauled ass through the desolate, infected mansion in order to grab the serum and get back to Richard in time.

Desperate to save the only two people he had had contact with since Captain Wesker, Barry, and Jill had vanished.

Propping his scavenged, well-aged shotgun against the wall, Chris stepped around the two Bravo members before he moved to kneel down in front of them. From what he could see, Richard was looking a hellva lot better than he was before. His skin was still flushed red and feverish though, and there were still visible beads of sweat rolling down his brow. His injured arm had been loosely wrapped up, although the bandage was already showing signs of blood spotting through it; Richard had the arm protectively pulled over his chest, his hand just barely curled into a loose fist.

The swelling was down though.

He was breathing, he wasn't convulsing.

He was still alive.

The sight of the man like this was painful though; he hardly looked like the man he normally was.

Richard had well-earned his rank as the most outgoing officer of S.T.A.R.S and there was hardly ever a moment where he wasn't smiling or laughing at something. Hell, if you heard Richard laughing at any given part of the day, you usually knew he was up to something.

But not now, not here.

There was no smiling, no laughing.

Only labored breathing and the occasional cough that sparked blood across his cracked lips.

"How's he doing?" Chris asked, keeping his voice low despite the would-be isolation they had for the moment. It was easier to keep the fear out of his voice when it was low though- easier to hide his nerves and his inability to do anything around here. It felt like the only thing he had done in this situation was run and get the serum, which was by no means just any other feat. But he wasn't the one who used it.

Rebecca was just barely eighteen, barely legal enough to join the department, and yet she had administered the serum without hesitation; she had managed to keep Richard calm throughout the entire process without seeming panicked and scared herself. And even when Richard had passed out from the pain and exhaustion, she kept her head straight and went to work on tending to his injuries.

Chris had used the excuse of stepping out to check on the adjacent area to avoid admitting that he might've gotten squeamish at the scene.

Richard had gotten bitten and infected by some... snake of abnormal size- at least that's what the man had managed to spit out between convulsions and puking up blood and bile. The puncture wound on his arm was no fucking joke either, easily backing up and confirming the man's story. The infected limb had been so swollen and bruised that it hardly looked much like a human arm to begin with. Every vein was engorged and inflamed, pushing up against his skin, bulging and near popping out. The entire arm had been shaking involuntarily, convulsing so hard that the man's fingers had bloodied themselves on the wooden floorboards- cracking his fingernails up to his nail beds and snapping some of them off entirely.

Rebecca ended up having to hold Richard's arm down to prevent further damage.

And then... she just cut right into the snake bite, rupturing the pocket of poison that had gathered underneath the skin, which then allowed her to drain it.

Of course there was a lot of blood and pus that came out with it too.

Blood and guts Chris could deal with- God knows how many of those creatures he had killed after all.

But _that_ he could not handle.

He had damn near scrambled to get out of the room and found himself practically dry-heaving in the corridor outside.

"Better," Rebecca replied as she used a small medical rag to wipe the sweat from Richard's brow. "His heart rate is normal and his breathing is stable for now. His fever hasn't broken yet but as long as it doesn't get any higher it should be fine." There was a pause in her words before she mustered up another tired smile. "He'll be okay."

God, it was amazing what the sound of good news could deliver.

"That's good- _Christ_ , finally something good is happening around here," Chris breathed.

Rebecca offered a quiet chuckle at his proclamation, no doubt just as equally relieved herself- and exhausted enough to laugh about the situation for what it was. But it didn't take long before she turned serious again, a more sober expression dressing on her face. "Is everything still okay out there?"

"Yeah, yeah- it's quiet, which is either good or bad, depending," Chris answered as he reached up and ran his fingers through his hair. For a few seconds, he stalled out with the quiet in the room; he knew what he wanted to say but he also knew that he didn't want to say it. It was something that needed to be addressed however- something that he was certain that Rebecca already knew. "... We can't stay here. It's not safe."

"No, it's not," Rebecca agreed, quick to prove his point- but just the same there seemed to be something holding her back. "Richard's still in a compromising condition. If we make a move and something happens, he won't be able to defend himself. And with those creatures all over this place is there... is there really anywhere safe in this mansion at all?"

She had a good point- a _damn_ good point.

Richard was barely in any shape to move, let alone walk aimlessly somewhere- especially under the constant guise of danger.

Hell, the man had just managed to start breathing on his own again.

They would have to go some place close by, some place safe- safer than here at least.

"We already almost lost him to one of these monsters, I won't run the risk of losing him again."

Chris closed his eyes and gave a sigh, running his hand across the back of his neck now. "No, I don't... I don't want to either," he whispered. "Do you remember that medical room you sent me to for the serum? The one by the western stairwell?" The young woman gave a nod in answer. "It's- it's not exactly the best location and I haven't explored that area much but... it's got a medical cabinet and it's got a bed. Two things that we don't have here. Now I can't promise how clean the sheets are but we can keep him resting there until he's strong enough to move again."

It was a questionable move.

But the few times he had been over in that area, there wasn't much hanging around.

There had been a few of those creatures before but he had already eliminated them hours ago, so it should relatively still be safe.

(Maybe.)

Rebecca seemed to contemplate on his answer and his half-ass confidence on the move.

This dusty old attic wasn't the best place to stay regardless of injury, but Richard was hurting bad and he needed to recover somewhere that didn't consist of mildew and sawdust.

Rebecca was the doctor though, it was her call.

She looked down at Richard for a moment, no doubt noticing the slight twitch on the corner of his lips now.

(Maybe he was waking up again.)

"You're right- anywhere is better than here," Rebecca finally agreed. "And... it's not too far off if I recall correctly so we should be okay moving there. If we're lucky, there won't be anything over there."

Alright, good.

One obstacle down.

One plan now in motion.

"Is Richard awake? You think he can move?"

"He goes in and out but I think he's stable enough to remain conscious if we wake him," Rebecca replied. "As for if he can move, that's a little questionable. He exhausted himself earlier and the poison drained him of most of his energy. If he can walk, I'll be surprised. You may end up having to do more walking for him than he can."

"I got no problem with that," Chris nodded; Richard's safety right now was his top priority. Carefully moving a hand to Richard's uninjured shoulder, Chris swore he could feel the heat from the man's fever through his clothing; Richard's thin shirt was already damp from sweat, which easily seemed to back up his claim. "You awake, big guy? You think you can move for a little while?"

Richard groaned in response, the fingers of his injured arm pulling into a loose fist for a moment.

"Hell yeah I can move," he muttered in response, his lips barely moving with the words. "Let's fucking go."

Rebecca snorted lightly at the words as she moved her hand over Richard's brow. "The fever spike is making him... delusional," she offered, "take everything he says with a grain of salt right now."

"I usually do," Chris chuckled, before he turned his attention back to Richard. "Alright, big guy, I'm gonna get you on your feet and we're gonna get moving, sound good?"

"I'm already moving."

Chris slid his arm underneath Richard's back and hoisted the man into a sitting position, where he could then get Richard's uninjured arm over his shoulder. Hooking his own arm underneath the man's left arm, Chris carefully lifted Richard off of the ground and to his feet- thankfully with some help from Rebecca as well. Richard groaned with the motions but caught himself when needed, still able to get his feet underneath him just before he shifted his weight onto Chris. Keeping one arm across Richard's back, hand firm on the man's waist, Chris kept Richard anchored to him for now- allowing the man to keep his injured arm still tightly pressed to his chest.

"Alright, just lean on me and we'll get through this," Chris assured, testing his own balance and making sure he could still move with Richard's additional weight.

"What? You're not gonna carry me?" Richard teased with a partially-slurred speech.

Chris offered a brief laugh in response. "I couldn't even if I wanted to, my friend."

"That's right. You couldn't carry all one hundred fifty-pounds of this."

"Yeah, maybe if you were soaking wet."

Rebecca snorted back a laugh that seemed to come at both of their expenses. "It's a bit of a walk to get to that room so we'll need to be careful. You won't be able to do much while you're carrying him, Chris, so I'll cover the both of you."

Once more, Chris was impressed with how calm the young woman was- and how confident she seemed to be with taking charge.

Here he was at a solid twenty-five, scared shitless, and panicking over what he had to do next.

Rebecca was eighteen and, while obviously scared, seemed more determined to not let it get in her way.

"Alright, you're the boss," Chris nodded, watching as Rebecca brushed her hands off on her pants before she pulled her handgun out of her hip holster. "Hang on, here, why don't you take the shotgun instead? I can't shoot with one arm and it'll cover us a lot better than your handgun."

Rebecca looked back to where he had propped his shotgun against the wall earlier and holstered her own gun away in order to inspect it. "Where did you find this?" she questioned, turning the aged shotgun over in her hands. "This isn't department issued."

"Long story."

"Whoa, whoa, you are not going to be covering much of anything with that pea shooter," Richard objected, sounding a little more clear this time. "With the time it takes between shots, we'll be dead before the second buck. You need automatic, not manual- and it just so happens that automatic is my brand of weaponry."

Chris rolled his eyes at the theatrics.

(This was the Richard he was used to though.)

"Rebecca, if you would," Richard started, gesturing some to his automatic shotgun, which was propped up just the same- and just out of range of his stiff, injured arm.

The medic only shook her head and seemed to be trying not to laugh again as she moved to retrieve the second shotgun. "It's not a competition, boys," she spoke, as she moved the old double-barrel to her shoulder and took Richard's auto in hand instead. "Let's just get going and get you somewhere safe before you get any worse."

Carefully shouldering Richard along, Chris followed Rebecca to the old attic doorway and watched as she cautiously eased the door open and looked out. After the initial looking, she stepped out and gave the corridor a more broad look over before she gestured for them to follow. The cold chill remained in the abandoned corridor- as did the rotted smell, which Chris found himself partly gagging on once more.

The door at the end of the hallway took them straight out into the main lobby of the mansion, which seemed oddly safe for the time being.

Chris had yet to see one of those creatures in this area but that didn't mean anything.

Rebecca continued to take lead as she moved across the top floor of the lobby to the door straight across from them. She moved slow and steady, ensuring that both he and Richard could keep up with her easy enough. And Chris had to admit he was surprised at how well Richard was able to move. The man stumbled some through his steps but for the most part was able to keep balance well enough to keep up with him.

Past the door was a balcony floor overlooking the dining room below, right where Chris had had his first encounter with one of those undead creatures. The memory of it, only a few hours old, still sent cold shivers down his back.

Rebecca did a quick scope of the place before she ushered them to follow her once again.

"You holding up, buddy?" Chris asked, watching as Rebecca carefully eased open the door at the far end of the balcony- the one they were trying to make it to.

So far so good with the monster business around here.

"I'm good," Richard answered, breathing long and slow for the time being. "I mean, I feel like shit but I'm alive."

For a man who had just gotten poisoned by a giant snake nearly an hour before, and had been fighting on the verge of death from the venom up until now, he was surprisingly optimistic.

But that was just who Richard was.

Following Rebecca's gesture to continue, Chris and Richard stepped into the tight corridor past the doorway and paused once more as Rebecca peeked around the next corner. And this time, her face flinched slightly into a grimace.

"We have company," she whispered, as she eased herself back around the corner.

Shit.

Well, their luck was bound to run out eventually.

"Great," Chris muttered, "is it possible for us to get around it?"

He knew the corridor ahead was pretty tight so he doubted that he'd get a promising answer for that question.

Rebecca shook her head in response, solidifying that fear. "Not without running the risk of being hit or grabbed by that thing."

Double shit.

"Let me take a look," Chris offered as he briefly released his hold on Richard and had Rebecca take over in his place. Holding his breath a bit, he peeked around the corner himself and easily spotted where the undead creature stood in the far corner of the box hallway. Lucky for them, it was turned with its back towards them- otherwise if it had so much as caught a glimpse of him, it would've been stumbling its way towards them.

While it would be beneficial to just kill the damn thing, he was getting low on ammo.

And any sort of noise in this tight corridor would just draw more of those things to them.

But with the corridor as tight as it was, there was no way of trying to squeeze by the damn thing.

But as Chris let his eyes continue to survey the small room, he found they weren't entirely out of options.

"I got a stupid idea," Chris started, glancing back to the other two, "just keep an eye on that thing for me, alright?"

"What are you doing?" Rebecca pressed.

"Just... let me try this," he tried and potentially failed to assure, just before he stepped out around the corner. Chris waited to see if the creature took notice of the noise and/or movement, and when it failed to do so, he continued to inch his way into the narrow corridor. More specifically, to the stair railing just a few feet from him. His eyes never left the creature as he placed one hand on the railing and then slowly worked himself over it.

One leg first, a partial straddle, and then the other leg- all moved in near silence.

Landing quietly on the other side, he waited still to see if the creature would react and then checked down the narrow stairway for any other hiding creatures. When everything seemed to remain in given place and nothing out of the ordinary moved, he deemed it safe enough for the time being. "Alright, come on," Chris whispered, gesturing for the other two to follow.

Rebecca and Richard stepped out around the corner as well and looked from the creature to him in passing glances.

"Come on, we don't have all day," Chris ushered.

"You're right," Richard started, as he slipped out of Rebecca's grasp and used the nearby wall to help keep his balance. "This is stupid."

"It's working, isn't it?" Chris retorted, watching as the man moved to the railing before he placed his good hand on it and slowly worked his leg over. He helped Richard keep balance as the man shifted his other leg over and made it over the short bar. Chris kept one eye on the creature, which still had yet to react, before he turned back to Rebecca. "Alright, you next."

Rebecca nodded and handed the shotgun to him just before she easily worked herself over the railing last- and quickly took the shotgun back when she landed. She seemed to deem the inattentive creature harmless enough before she headed down the staircase first.

Slipping his arm around Richard once more, Chris slowly helped the man down the stairs- trying to take each step as quietly as they could. He could hear Richard grunting between every other step and knew the movement wasn't easy for the man. Richard was barely on his feet again, barely able to hold his own weight, and now he was having to keep balanced enough to climb down a flight of stairs. Not exactly easy, but unfortunately necessary in this situation.

Rebecca was waiting at the bottom of the stairs for them and when they landed she gestured briefly towards a shadow at the far end of the corridor. Whatever was casting it was standing just around the corner but it had yet to notice them, either by sound or visual. There was a subtle swaying motion to the casted shadow, which Chris recognized as being a trait of those undead creatures.

For now, once more, it could be ignored.

Rebecca lead them to the nearby door beneath the stairs and shouldered it open, doing a brief scope of the small room before she held it open for them.

Chris had yet to actually see a creature in one of these small rooms, but it was safer to be smart than naive about them.

Walking Richard inside of the room, Chris lead him to the small cot in the far corner and carefully helped him down onto it. He got the man seated first before he helped Richard with getting his legs onto the mattress, eventually getting him relatively comfortable on the thin bed. "Alright, there you go. It's gotta be more comfortable than the hardwood floor, right?"

"Believe it or not, that was not the worst place that I've slept before," Richard chuckled as he moved to brace his good hand over his wounded arm once more. The bandages from before were now heavily beginning to stain with spots of blood, as well as what might've been pus. And it was hard to deny the slight tension in the man's face as he seemed to need a few deep breaths to calm himself.

It was worrisome but Chris tried not to let himself panic over it.

It was a life or death situation that Richard had just escaped from- and right now he was battling well on the side of living.

"You alright?" Chris questioned, as he carefully seated himself on the edge of the cot, making sure he didn't jostle the man by much. "How's the arm?"

Richard gave another brief laugh, although it was mostly dry this time. "Better but... the shit still hurts."

"Yeah well, a giant snake tried to eat you apparently- that's not exactly something you can just walk off," Chris replied, catching the supposedly agreeing nod Richard gave; the man seemed well on his way to passing out again. Chris checked behind him as Rebecca finally pulled the door tightly closed before she checked to ensure that it was locked in place now. "You think you two can work with this place?"

The young woman gave the room a brief look over, taking particular interest in the medicine cabinet, before she nodded. "Yeah, it's probably the best place to be at in this mansion," Rebecca remarked, before she gestured to the medicine cabinet. "I should be able to find something in there that'll take his fever down and help with the pain. And if not, well I got that Biochemistry degree for a reason."

It was a good start- a damn good start.

Hopefully it meant that things would finally start going up from here.

Then again, optimistically-speaking, with them already at the bottom, the only place they could go was up.

"Are you two going to be fine here on your own?" Chris asked next.

(He wished he could delay the question but he also knew that he couldn't risk pushing it back.)

Rebecca frowned in response as she moved towards the cot, carefully propping Richard's shotgun at the foot of it. "Are you... leaving?"

The idea of leaving them wasn't _exactly_ something Chris wanted to do- especially not with Richard still in bad shape and with them being the only other living people he had run across so far. "Yeah, uh... well with Richard out of commission someone has to find a way out of this shithole and I'm think I've got a lead on it," Chris offered, hoping that maybe the prospect of getting them out of here would outweigh the guilt of leaving them here.

"Don't tell me you were depending on me to find a way out," Richard started.

Considering that Richard was the communications expert for both Bravo and Alpha team... yeah, Chris sort of was depending on him.

"Yeah actually I was- if only that damn snake hadn't gotten in the way," Chris replied, as he loosely clapped the man on his uninjured shoulder.

"You're a real fucking asshole," Richard remarked with a grin before he moved his hand to cover Chris's wrist. "If you're going back out there, you watch yourself alright? We can only afford for one of us to be injured at a time here and I've already claimed the first spot."

There was barely a grip in the man's fingers, barely any strength in his hand to keep hold of anything.

"Just focus on getting better, alright?" Chris assured. "I can't have you dying on me here. I need you."

"That is too much responsibility for me."

Rebecca gave a quiet laugh this time and moved to rest a hand on Chris' shoulder as he stood back up. "We'll be fine. We'll stay here until he gets better and he's able to get back on his feet again. And when that happens, we'll come find you, alright?"

"Sounds good," Chris nodded before he moved to rest both of his hands on her thin shoulders. Rebecca was barely not a kid but he knew she didn't like to be treated like one. He had seen the aftermath of what happened when someone did and it wasn't pretty.

Fun fact, don't piss off your local medic.

Especially not when they're the only medic in the entire department.

But she needed comfort and reassurance just as much as anyone else did- especially given the shit she had just pulled Richard back from the brink of.

"You're doing a great job and I know it's going to be difficult but just keep it up; we'll get through this."

Rebecca nodded in return and Chris swore it looked like she might cry- either out of stress or God-given relief. But the moment passed in the blink of an eye, quick to be buried under her stoic look of focus. "If you get hurt out there there are enough supplies in here for me to fix you up," she offered, as she pulled the double-barrel off her shoulder and handed it back to him, "so don't hesitate, okay?"

Chris gladly took the gun in return. "Stay safe."

"You too."

* * *

_Stay safe._

Literally a two-word command and Chris still couldn't follow it.

It was just like before, just like earlier in the woods when all they had to do was _stay together_.

He couldn't do that either.

He still ended up losing Jill, Barry, and Captain Wesker.

The sharp pain radiating from the back of his shoulder was a constant reminder that if he couldn't keep the first two commands than he had to follow the third one; he had to stay alive. Fingers barely grazed the deep puncture wound before Chris was greeted with white spots in his eyes, with the spinning sensation of falling over. He could feel his own blood turning hot; he could feel his skin sweating, burning even as the venom began to take effect.

He had miscalculated just how fast that damn thing was- let alone how fucking big.

Chris had seen Richard's arm, sure, but he had seen other kinds of snake bites before as well; he had seen limbs swell up to that size from just common snakes.

Not from a fucking goliath like that.

Just the thought of how much venom that thing had managed to drain into his body in such a short bite was terrifying.

He had gotten so caught up in reloading, in counting shells, he didn't even see how fast that thing had caught up to him.

One minute it was tangled up in a support beam on the other side of the room.

And the next, Chris could feel its fang piercing through the back of his shoulder, causing him to drop the shells in hand.

It still took a handful of shaky shots from the old double-barrel before the snake eventually retreated.

Breathing heavily, Chris watched as the creature slithered out through the attic window before he snatched the dusty death mask and ran for the door. He got what he needed, a possible one step closer to getting out of here; maybe it would make the bleeding injury worth it. Shoving the attic door aside, Chris barely made it down the short trio of stairs before it felt like his chest locked up, before he could feel a noticeable pain in his ribs; the evident thump of his heart as it pounded against his chest plate.

He could barely breathe as he forced himself to move into the next room, forcing himself to stumble through the doorway until he was back out in the eastern corridor.

The medical room wasn't too far from here...

He could do it.

(He had to.)

Chris hit the main hall about the same time a crushing wave of nausea hit him.

He felt that sense of heat rush over him, blinding his senses, and locking his kneecaps in place.

He stumbled, just barely catching himself on the nearby banister before he felt the weight of his own body drag him to the floor anyways. It felt like his own weight was crushing him as any sense of movement or feeling quickly bled out of his fingertips and legs.

He knew he had to keep going.

If he wanted to live, if he wanted to stay alive, he had to keep going.

But he couldn't...

* * *

Conscious was slow to come back.

And Chris woke to the drumming inside of his head, to the stiff ache of his neck and shoulders- hell, most of his upper torso. It felt like his body was made of lead and cast iron; it pushed down so heavy on his chest, it felt like he had to force himself to keep breathing. He had to force his lungs full and then squeeze them dry, hearing the strained breath that escaped between his lips.

Everything was heavy and stiff, but he could move it again- even if just barely.

More importantly though, he could feel again.

"Looks like he's waking up."

The words came in near inaudible and the voice sounded like it was down a tunnel but Chris managed to pull some sense out of them. For a moment, he didn't even know where he was, or what had happened- hell he was almost convinced he didn't know who the hell he was either. It felt like he just woke up after a rough night of drinking- probably four too many at the bar. Always slept great afterwards but he also woke up feeling like he was on the verge of death.

"Hey, come on, wake up, buddy, I know you're in there somewhere."

Chris could feel what might've been someone lightly tapping the side of his face to stir a reaction.

And they certainly got it as he tried to push their hand away.

It was a loose, mostly uncoordinated motion but it seemed to make its point in the end.

Chris didn't even question whose hand it was. All he registered was that it was annoying him and he really didn't want to be touched right now. Groaning softly, he moved his hand to his face, feeling the numbness of his hand as he tried to find where the hollow throbbing inside of his head was at- so he could attempt to rip it out.

"Yeah, that snake's a real bitch, isn't it?"

And that's when things clicked, that's when everything came back together.

The attic, the death mask, the snake...

_The bite._

"Richard, move would you-"

Chris finally forced his eyes open at that point, just barely enough to spot the two blurry figures standing over him. He could barely make out any details on them but he knew well enough who they were; the only two other living people in this fucking place. The light in the room was dim to begin with but Chris felt the light as though it was bleach being poured into his eyes. It throbbed something righteous in his head, forcing him to close them, and wince as the pain radiated towards the back of his skull.

"Chris, can you hear me?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he managed to word out as fingers moved to cover his eyes, just long enough to ease the throbbing pain down a notch or two- enough to make it tolerable again. His hand pulled away from his eyes once he felt he could risk it and stumbled down to his shoulder. Chris could feel where his tactical vest had been removed and he could feel how his shirt had been partly ripped open. He could feel the cold sweat of his own skin, the heat that stirred underneath it; he could feel the thick padding of bandages pressed and taped against the back of his left shoulder. "Jesus Christ, what happened?"

Rebecca moved a hand to his brow and Chris almost flinched at the sensitivity to the touch. "I got a bad feeling not too long ago," she started, as she moved her hand down to his bruising cheek next. "In a place like this it didn't seem uncommon, but this one really stuck out to me- it bothered me enough that I went checking around to try and calm myself down. I got to the floor above and knew right then that something was wrong, so I kept going, kept looking for a sign. And... that's when I found you out in the main hall."

Fuck, right.

He remembered getting out of the attic, getting out of the hallway... things went black after that.

He must've hit his face pretty hard on the ground; it felt like everything was throbbing now.

"Jesus Christ, I thought you were dead," Rebecca continued, her lower lip just barely trembling with the words. "You weren't responsive, you were barely breathing, and I didn't know what was wrong with you until I saw your shoulder. It was all swollen up the same way Richard's arm was, so it wasn't hard to put two and two together after that. I ran back and got Richard, who was thankfully well enough to carry you back here."

There was a pause as the woman tugged a rag from her vest and used it to wipe the sweat from Chris' brow, lingering some with the motions.

"If I had found you even just ten minutes later, you would've been dead."

Ten minutes wasn't nearly as long as some people thought.

Of course that all depended on the situation.

In emergencies, it wasn't enough time.

In torture, it was too much time.

"That fucking snake hit you hard," Richard remarked, peering over Rebecca's shoulder down at him. "It grazed me and still nearly took my arm off. Damn thing must've tried to eat you."

The attic battle was kind of a blur at this point.

Hell, any memories that Chris so much as tried to recall were mostly black.

"Why did you go back into the attic with that thing in there?" Rebecca pressed.

(Wasn't that the question of the hour.)

"There was something that I needed in there," Chris replied, realizing now how dry his throat and mouth was. "The door got locked after Richard left but I found the key and went back inside- I didn't think that damn thing would still be in there, or that it would come back, whichever it was. I guess it must've smelt your blood in there and was trying to track you down." He gave out a heavy exhale as recalling just that much was enough to make his head throb again. "Please tell me I still have that thing."

"Would it happen to be the creepiest mask I've ever seen in my life?" Richard questioned.

"That's the one."

Chris tried not to focus too much on the full numbness of his arm and shoulder; he tried to focus more on his breathing, on getting things back under control. He was exhausted as hell but he knew he couldn't stop here; he had to keep going. Despite the danger he just barely surpassed, he had to keep looking. He had two masks down, two more to go. And maybe, just maybe he would get something that would get them out of this place.

For everyone's sake, he had to go back into the fray.

"You know, funny thing... I didn't really believe you when you were talking about how big the snake was," Chris admitted, laughing quietly with his own words. "I thought it was the fever or the pain making you delirious but... you really weren't fucking kidding."

Richard laughed, a little more dry than anything. "I wish I had been fucking kidding. I never wanted to know that something like that existed- _ever_."

* * *

Chris managed to get some rest but not much.

Sleep was empty and he barely hung on to it for more than half an hour- just barely long enough for him to get his bearings back.

And even then, it didn't feel like it mattered; he just woke up into the same nightmare.

At the very least, he was feeling better; the serum and a shot of a mild steroid was helping him recover and get his strength back. He would be a little on the slow and heavy side for awhile, but he would be fine. He would be back on his feet soon enough- although not as soon as he needed to be.

"Ten more minutes," Rebecca insisted after Chris tried to get up the first time.

He could've argued with her, could've insisted otherwise, but the weight of her hands on his shoulders convinced him that it wasn't an argument worth fighting. Ten more minutes wasn't a lot to ask for and it wasn't a lot for him to give up either. It was the defining line between life and death after all- at least in reference to his life.

So with a defeat sigh, Chris at least signed himself to sitting up in the old, weathered bed.

The swelling of his shoulder had gone down significantly, allowing him to feel and move it once more; it no longer felt tight and uncomfortable underneath his shirt or even under his own weight. It no longer felt like someone permanently had their hands wrapped around his throat either. The discomfort had gone down drastic, which just left him in an odd condition where he was both ready and not ready to keep moving forward.

Mentally, he needed to; he knew he did.

But physically, his body felt like it wanted to die instead.

"So," Chris started, knowing well the conversation he was about to open wasn't one he wanted to discuss, "have either of you seen any of the others?"

Richard shook his head from where he was seated in a chair pulled up next to the bed; it came from the nearby desk and no matter how many times Richard tried to hand it off to Rebecca, the young always refused. Chris felt bad for kicking the man out of the bed, especially given that they had come to this room just for him- but Richard insisted otherwise, saying Chris needed it more than he did.

"No," Richard spoke, looking over his broken and missing fingernails. "Rebecca's the first person I've seen from Bravo team since I got here. After the helicopter went down, we kind of split up- well, we got lost. I don't know where everyone else went but Kenneth, Forest, and I headed in this direction for sure. We lost each other in the dark and I somehow ended up in this place."

It was comforting to know that he wasn't the only one who had gotten lost in those Godforsaken woods.

"Same here," Chris nodded. "I was with Jill, Captain Wesker, and Barry but... we got separated and I was the only one who made it here. I haven't seen them since." He felt the need to mention why and how they had gotten separated; he wanted to bring up the dogs, wanted to bring up Joseph but the words got caught in his throat. The memory was still fresh in his mind, there was still blood half-dried on his vest.

Rebecca didn't immediately answer with them and seemed to be subconsciously toying with one of the pouches on her belt. "I saw... I saw Captain Enrico a few hours ago," she started, and there was a stiffness in her words when she spoke. "We were investigating a train after the helicopter crashed and... then this weird training facility- I don't know. I didn't know where we were or how we got there, but I... I haven't seen him since." She paused briefly before she continued. "Those creatures, they're all over the forest; they're everywhere out there."

Christ.

Fucking Christ.

Chris had experienced that much- he just wished no one else had to.

"Edward's dead," Rebecca spoke once more after a pocket of silence; she was the first to talk about the avoided subject and her voice shook when she did. "Those creatures got him before he could get to the train. He... he died in front of me and there was nothing I could do." Her voice cracked now and her face briefly scrunched up but there were no tears; it looked as though she had shed enough of them already. "He came back as one of those things too, one of the undead... I had to put him down."

Christ felt his chest pull tight at the words.

Richard went damn near white and made the motion to go towards Rebecca before he seemed to think better of it.

"Kevin's dead too," she finished. "He survived the crash, he was still alive when we left but... I guess those things got to him when he was trying to fix the helicopter."

Chris moved one hand to brush through his hair, running his nails against his scalp, curling his fingers into the base of his neck when he was through. "... Joseph's dead," he finally spoke, forcing the words, the confession out of his throat. The weight of the words, of the announcement hit him square in the chest and pulled tight in his throat and lungs. He could still see and hear the scene playing every time he closed his eyes, every time he heard one of those cursed dogs barking. "We landed and we had just started looking around, we were trying to figure out where your helicopter crashed. Joseph was leading in front of us with that... stupid camera of his and... the next thing I know he's being ripped into pieces in front of me."

He had once thought his time in the Air Force had desensitized him to death, to mutilated bodies.

And after seeing some of his own men get shot down, it didn't matter if the bodies were of strangers or friends.

But that wasn't the case anymore.

Not here, not now.

"Jesus," Richard whispered, one hand rubbing the back of his head as he stared at the floor between his feet.

"I'm sorry," Rebecca nodded.

Chris knew he had to keep talking, keep reporting in what he knew. But he knew that the next name he was going to say would hurt more than anything. "Kenneth... Kenneth's dead too," he forced himself to continue; he wanted to ignore the look of shock, the look of disbelief that washed over the other two. "I heard him screaming when I got here but I... I was too late."

If he had been faster, if he had reached the door even just thirty seconds faster...

"Kenneth... oh God, Kenneth was with me," Richard started, stumbling through the words as he broke into a cold sweat. "I just saw him..."

Chris wanted to stop there, he wanted to leave some thread of hope for them.

But that would be an injustice.

"Forest," Chris started, barely getting out that much before he shut down. He could still see the man, bloodied and hunched over with birds pecking at what skin still remained on his body. Chris could still smell the carnage, still taste the rot in his mouth; he could still taste the bile from his stomach turning over on itself, from the gut-wrenching puke that he emptied out into the nearby bushes.

He could still hear the sound of Forest getting up, reawakening.

Rebecca gave out what sounded like a choked gasp before she clasped both of her hands over her mouth. Her eyes were pressed tightly closed as she struggled with keeping her composure, as she struggled with knowing that two more members of Bravo Team were dead.

"How many of us are left?" Richard questioned, somber and quiet.

Chris didn't know if the man really wanted an answer or not.

Rebecca took in a deep breath, fingers partly clawed at her own face before she dropped her hands. "Edward, Kevin, Kenneth, and Forest are gone," she whispered, listing out the casualties. "You, Captain Enrico, and myself are all that remains of Bravo team."

It felt like a punch to the gut to hear it out loud.

To know that a team of seven was now down to three- potentially two.

And that the four confirmed deaths were not pleasant.

"And Richard, you almost died," Rebecca added, as though to make the situation feel heavier.

"But I didn't," Richard reminded, quick on the draw to do that much. And there was worry etched into the man's features, a look that very seldom came to the man; a look that did not look good on his youthful, bright features. His hands were shaking despite his attempts to keep them clasp together, to keep the motion from being seen- from taking over.

Right now, the two of them were all that remained, all that survived of Bravo team.

And that had to be a hard burden to carry.

Chris gave out a heavy sigh and moved both hands to the back of his neck; it almost felt like he was out of place here. "I have no idea where anyone from Alpha team is. I don't know if they even made it to this mansion or not." Barry, Captain Wesker, and Jill... all of them could've easily suffered the same fate as Joseph. "You guys are the only two people I've ran into since I got here- the only living ones anyways."

He didn't like admitting it.

He didn't like to be reminded of how many bodies, of how many creatures he had come across.

There was silence.

And despite their shared fears, their shared anguish, the death reports, the silence only made him feel alone.

"We'll figure a way out of this," Richard started as he pulled his hands apart and rubbed them against his jeans.

It was hopeful, optimistic- wishful maybe.

But Richard was always the first to try and boost morale.

"I know we will."


End file.
